


Would you still care?

by orphan_account



Series: just angst ! [1]
Category: Dream Team - Fandom, Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Blood, Dream is trying his best, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Other, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred, Starvation, Suicidal Thoughts, no real name use aside from George, sapnap is mentioned, so is George, this was kinda hard for me to post ngl, trigger warning, vent fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-14
Updated: 2020-11-14
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:27:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27556855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: As each day passes, the chronic emptiness and anguish Dream feels grows and grows till it becomes unbearable. Luckily George is there.
Relationships: Can be read platonic or romantic - Relationship, Clay | Dream & GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Series: just angst ! [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2039166
Comments: 8
Kudos: 145





	Would you still care?

**Author's Note:**

> hi ! this is a really quick author note to mention all of the possible triggers, content warnings and disclaimers. [:
> 
> Triggering content in this fic; Self-Harm, mentions and graphic details, Suicidal Thoughts, Pills/Medication mention, Starvation  
> Content warnings for this fic; Blood, mentioned and graphic detail, Self-hatred, mentioned and in detail  
> Disclaimers for this fic; If any of the creators featured in this fic express discomfort for vent fics, ship fics or fics about them in general, i will delete this.

Soft tunes filled his ears; They wrapped around him like honey in an attempt to soothe a sore throat; It was melancholic. It reminded him of a rainy day, the sky was grey, and it made everyone feel bad. He felt empty.  
A lack of positivity, a lack of social life, a lack of meaningful skill; The thought of his loved ones hating him, hating the way he spoke, hating the way he stood, the way he walked, the way he existed. It hurt more than Dream could begin to explain, words were hard to grasp when your mind was constantly off-track. Dream had a grasp onto reality long ago, but soon, his fingers became slick with oil, and he lost it. His lost grip had left him in a miserable state.

A pitter-patter of raindrops fell onto his window, the sound becoming comforting along with his music after awhile. How long had it been since he started listening to music? Dream glanced down from the ceiling, eyeing his phone with half-lidded eyes. He grabbed it carefully and turned the screen on, his gut churning as he realised almost four hours had passed since he had put his music on; The continuous loop of the desolate tune had grasped him with firm hands and kept him stuck. He should probably get up, George was sure to be home now. George had saved him without his knowledge of a few occasions; On the days where pills became similar to tic-tacs and Dream couldn't help but fall, George had come home right before Dream had the chance to take anything. The thought of leaving George alone in such a cruel world hurt Dream in multiple ways, but that mindset made it easy to forget about the others around you. Greed and selfishness take you over with ease.  
Dream pulled his phone up, pressing pause on his music while he pushed himself up. He took his earbuds out of his ears and listened to the noises he could distinguish; The rattle of keys hitting the counter, plastic bags crumbling under the weight of groceries, and most importantly George's voice. Dream couldn't help but describe it as a ray of sunshine, George fit the description perfectly, and Dream wouldn't try to mess that up. Dream listened to his friends muffled voice, vaguely hearing the conversation. Something about uploading, or the lack of it, it seems.

When was the last time he had uploaded?

As George's voice came closer and his words became less muffled, Dream could hear George's end of the conversation; But he wishes he hadn't. ''Sap, I'm serious. I'm worried about Dream,'' His voice trailed off, and his tone became somber, hearing his name coming from George in such an upset tone made his stomach turn uncomfortably. ''He hasn't uploaded in almost three months at this point, he spends all of his time in his room, I barely see him eat... We barely talk, honestly..'' George murmured as he passed Dream's door towards his own, his voice becoming far and muffled as he walked away. Dream frowned and stared at his floor. Nausea clouded his head as he got up from his bed with shaky hands, grabbing his door handle in a soft grip. He turned it slowly and opened the door, light from the hallway pouring into his pitch-black room, Dream looked behind himself, grimacing at the mess of his room the hallway light illuminated. Dream peaked his head out, sighing in relief at George's closed door. Dream walked out, walking towards the bathroom with light steps.

Dream closed the door behind himself, making sure to turn the knob before closing it to ease the noise it made. Dream looked into the mirror and made eye contact with a shell of himself; His eyes lacked the shine they had a few months ago, his face had become much slimmer, his stubble was starting to get out of control, and his hair was greasy and looked like it would crunch if you gripped it.

When was the last time he showered?

Dream glanced over towards the shower before looking back into the mirror, his eyes racking over his figure. His hoodie that was previously well-fitting now hung loose on his shoulders; His collar bones showed more prominently, his cheeks were hollow, his eye bags had grown worse and, his hair was looking thin. 

When was the last time he had eaten?

Questions ran rampant through his cloudy head as he stared at himself, his features starting to blur together and warp. Dream didn't like what he had become. Dream was disgusted with who stared back at him. He wanted to rip himself apart and piece himself back into his old self, his happy self; The self that didn't isolate from his best friends, the self that was ready to stream daily, if given a chance, the self that didn't refuse food because his stomach was in constantly in a knot. 

Dream missed when he wasn't depressed. 

Dream watched his chest rise and fall; His features began to unblur as he stared at himself, tears and flushed cheeks now visible. When had he started crying? He sniffled and brought his hoodie sleeve up to his mouth, a quiet sob leaving him. He was so tired. Dream used his best attempt to wipe his tears away as he opened the bathroom door quietly, walking back to his door. 

''Dream?'' George called from behind him, George felt his heart tug as Dream tensed. ''Yeah?'' He asked, his voice quiet as his eyes stared into his closed door. ''Uhm... Well, I just wanted to know if you're alright.'' George said, his voice equally as quiet in an attempt to hide the way his voice shook. ''Yeah, I'm alright. Are you?'' Dream asked, lying through his teeth. ''Oh, Uhm... yes, I'm alright,'' George said, staring at Dream's clothed back. ''I'm glad to hear that.'' Dream said, attempting to put a smile on as he opened his door. ''Dream?'' George asked again, his eyebrows furrowed as he watched his friend disappear into his room yet again, leaving him with no answer. George frowned and clenched his fists with frustration, desperately wanting to knock on Dream's door and get a truthful answer. But as he got closer to the door, he heard the muffled sobs coming from behind, his raised fist faltering. A quiet sigh of retreat left George as he walked away from Dream's door, his eyes lingering on the knob for a few seconds more as he walked into his own room. He shut his door quietly, and his eyes filled with tears as soon he heard the click of confirmation. He wanted to help Dream; He just wasn't sure how. 

Dream felt beyond broken. He hated how vulnerable George sounded; He hated himself for making George worry. Dream felt his body shake with each sob, his fingers digging deep into his clothed arm in an attempt to ground himself. It didn't work though. Dream continued to cry like it was the only thing keeping him alive, his tears dropping onto his pillow and making it damp. Dream wanted to die.

The minuscule things that made him happy have turned to dust, his mind slipping farther and farther through the cracks in his fingers, oil slick hands trying so desperately to hold on to what he had left; But he wasn't good enough to hold himself together, even in the slightest. He had lost himself deep in the blizzard, far from the people he loved with no way back. Dream rolled his sleeves up and dug his nails into his wrist harshly, the skin surrounding it starting to burn with pain. The world around him slipped away, leaving only him. Dream sat up with teary eyes, his fingers leaving his wrist to grab at his nightstand, opening the top drawer. Dream blinked away his tears enough to grab the razor that sat on a piece of paper neatly, his hand shaking as he brought it down onto his arm. Dream winced in pain as a cut trailed behind the razor, blood bubbling to the top and seeping out onto his hoodie. ''Fuck, fuck, fuck.'' He muttered quickly, bringing the razor back down on the same cut. He let out a silent scream, his vision completely blocked by tears. He could smell the blood; It was so strong. Dream started to shake with chills and pain as he brought the razor back down to a different part of his arm, making a quick slice. ''Fuck,'' He sobbed into his upper arm, watching as the blood slipped down his arm and fell onto his bed with a mocking droplet sound. ''God fucking damnit,'' He winced as he brought the razor back down one more time, the razor slipping from his fingers as he did a particularly deep one. He couldn't help but let out a pained scream; The smell of the blood became overbearing as he looked down at his cut arm, his gut lurching as he saw the inside of his arm. ''I can't do this, fuck, fuck, fuck-'' He muttered out quickly, gasping for air as he stood up.

Dream felt his knees buckle from under him, his chest heaving as he slumped onto the floor while holding his bleeding arm. Sharp knocks started to pound on his door, causing a quick, and pained, scream of ''Don't come in!'' to leave Dream, who pulled down his hoodie sleeve swiftly as the door swung open. ''Dream...'' George muttered, his eyes softening as he stared at Dream. George felt his stomach twist at the smell of blood that filled his nostrils but pushed forward and was soon by Dream's side, who was babbling strings of apologies weakly. ''Can I hug you?'' George breathed out, his eyebrows furrowing at the growing bloodstain on Dream's hoodie sleeve. Dream lunged into George's arms, his body shaking violently as he sobbed into George's shoulder. Dream didn't care currently; The pain in his arm became numbing, his whole arm felt numb as he hugged George, who accepted the hug with ease. ''Dr-'' 

''I need help.'' Dream finally said, taking a deep breath in. ''I figured,'' George replied, his tone clipped as he pulled away from Dream and stared at his bloodied sleeve. ''We need to get that bandaged,'' He muttered and pushed himself up, offering a hand out to Dream, which he took. Dream felt dizzy and nauseous, his shoulders drooped as he stood alongside George. ''I'm so sorry, George.'' Dream muttered as George took his non-bloody hand into his own and started to lead Dream out of his room. ''We'll talk after,'' George said, causing Dream to quiet down and just follow him into the bathroom. George closed the toilet lid and motioned for Dream to sit, which he did after a second. ''Can I lift your sleeve?'' George asked, making eye contact with Dream, who nodded. George peeled the bloodied sleeve up as gently as he could, wincing as Dream let out a few cries of pain. ''I'm sorry.'' He muttered and finally got the sleeve up. George turned away and grabbed a gentle washcloth from the cabinet; He turned the water on and soaked the washcloth, squeezing the extra water out after he turned the sink off. ''This is going to hurt.'' He murmured and placed the wet towel onto the cuts, his heart tugging as he felt Dream shifting under his grip. The two stayed like that in silence for a few minutes as George stopped the bleeding, lifting it up once they had stopped. George walked back over to the sink and turned it on, running the washcloth under it. George grimaced as the water ran pink, his shoulders rising and lowering with a sigh. George turned the sink back off after the water began to run clear, squeezing any extra water out yet again.

George quietly ran the damp cloth around the cuts to wipe the excess blood off. Once the surface of Dream's skin was clean, George placed the washcloth into the sink and squatted down, opening another set of cabinets. He grabbed the butterfly stitch bandages and a roll of plush wrap, standing back up. George peeled the back off of the butterfly stitch bandage, quickly pressing the end of the bandage on one side of the cut, placing the other side down while pulling up to pull the skin together. He repeated that for the others and wrapped Dream's arm in the plush wrap. 

''Can we talk now?'' Dream murmured, his tone soft and shaky. ''Yes, let me get you a different hoodie and then we can talk in the living room,'' George said and left the bathroom, soon returning with a fresh hoodie. Dream changed quickly and the two walked into the living room, each of them sitting on one side of the couch. Dream began to talk about all of his negative feelings in the past five months, about the times that George had saved him without his knowledge and about the times that Dream couldn't bare to leave George. Tears were shed and the two ended up in each other's arms. 

''I love you, George.'' Dream muttered, his voice quiet and hoarse from all of the crying. ''I love you too, I'm gonna try my best to help you.'' George said, tightening his grip on the dirty-blonde.

**Author's Note:**

> is it obvious i got lazy near the end? anyways, i wrote this instead of relapsing so thats pog !  
> i didn't edit this honestly, i didnt have the energy. i might edit it once im feeling better but in the end its just a vent fic-  
> also sorry for the,,, very little amount of comfort/fluff after that amount of angst-


End file.
